Introductions

The room emptied as Lieutenant Commander Walsh dismissed the briefing. Dzhossen sighed and reached into his ditty to fish out his file. It was unusually thick for an Ensign. Two files actually, one for his Service Record that included a list of his disciplinary infractions and a Medical file that he would eventually have to deliver to both the CMO and the ship's Counselor. As the rest of the formation fell away, Dzhossen parted the crowd and made his way towards the tall bald man who had introduced named himself as Lieutenant Commander Walsh to the squadron. Folder in hand, the Vulcan dropped into parade rest and waited to be noticed as the Lt. Commander chatted amiably with a blond Lieutenant human male of similar build.

The rest of the pilots were leaving to go prepare as best they could for what was coming next. As Terry was talking with Lieutenant Kilmartin, he noticed that the newest addition to the squadron was making towards them. Then he saw that he was standing and waiting. "So, we'll do our best with what we've got once we enter the nebula."

"We'll be fine, I'm sure of it," Kilmartin nodded before turning towards the oncoming Ensign. "Well if it isn't the nugget. Welcome, Ensign."

Terry took the files and held them under his arm. He looked at Sunbeam and grinned. Nugget, he thought to himself. He hadn't heard that one in a while. "At ease, Ensign. So, do you come to us from a previous assignment or straight out of the Academy?" Terry could probably have easily read it, but he wanted to hear what the Vulcan had to say. It had been a long time since he had flown alongside one and that had been quite the experience.

Terry chuckled at the Ensign's still squeak remark. It was odd, though, that a Vulcan used humor and was speaking like this. But his call sign is what really caught his attention. He looked at Kilmartin when Dzhossen said it and then back to the Ensign. "Discord, huh. And why do they call you that?"

"Mostly because the Commodore on the base wouldn't let my flight instructor keep calling me 'frack-face.' He and I... Didn't get along. It's not like I was the only one who hated him, but I was definitely the most vocal. After a few incidents he started to blame everything on me. Every prank, every stroke of bad luck, every gremlin in his fighter. Even stuff I didn't do." Discord raised his hands defensively, "Not saying I'm an innocent, sir, but there are several other folks with clean records because what's one more disciplinary mark to me. Anyway, after a particularly nasty engine breakdown another student suggested that perhaps it was caused by the spirit of discord, you know our inability as a class to work together. Apparently the instructor didn't buy it because I immediately became Discord."

Terry nodded throughout the whole thing and, at the Ensign's conclusion, said, "Well, there's no instructor here to call you names. But if you do screw up, you'd better believe that I'll have a few choice words for you. The Black Knights are the best of the best in Gamma Quadrant and I expect the best from all of my pilots."

"Sir. I imagine there will be a few of those in my time here, but I didn't wash then and I won't wash now. As long as you let me, I'll fight."

"That's the attitude, Ensign," replied Terry. "I'll let you fly and fight if you keep your nose clean. In the meantime, have you been able to settle in yet?"

"I have quarters, sir, and I know where the hanger bay and mess decks are."

"Well," replied Terry, "those are the three most important places on board. At least for a new arrival to know about. Everything else will come with time."